Popular
by AwakeningAngels
Summary: Let's look behind the scenes of two famous female trios, and see how the theme of popularity comes to play.
1. Prologue: We Had It Made for Us

_Author's Note: Hey guys. Here's another fan fic done by me. Now, I'm going to warn you. I'm still busy with all of these fan fictions (mostly "Teach Me How to Love"); forgive me if I don't update as soon as we expect, okay? I appreciate the positive feedback and comments from all of you._

_Now for this fan fiction, it will take place in the future for the most part. The Unholy Trinity and Kitty's trio – known as the Kitty Kats – will be Hollywood trios in the music industry, while other characters that are or have been in New Directions will start off as their different, respective occupations I thought they could be in or may have been predicted for them on Glee. Depending on what happens to them, these may change._

_**Rachel Berry, Kurt Hummel (1), and Sugar Motta**__ – Broadway singers/actors_

_**Unique/Wade Adams (1), Kurt Hummel (2)**__ – Fashion designers_

_**Unique/Wade Adams (2)**__ – Comedy television actor/actress_

_**Marley Rose**__ – Writer/book store owner; photographer_

_**Blaine Anderson**__ – Politician/Senator of New York_

_**Finn Hudson**__ – Army man/serving for the army_

_**Noah Puckerman**__ – Modeling in Los Angeles, California_

_**Mercedes Jones**__ – Hollywood recording star_

_**Sam Evans**__ – NFL football player_

_**Joe Hart**__ – Pastor; part-time musician_

_**Mike Chang, Tina Cohen-Chang**__ – Performers in Chicago, IL_

_**Artie Abrams**__ – Film industry; part-time volunteer at local hospital in Lima, Ohio_

_**Jake Puckerman**__ – Artist; musician (guitar)_

_**Jacob Ben Israel**__ – Celebrity news reporter_

_Yes, everyone out of New Directions, plus a couple of additions, will be heard in this fan fiction, so look out for that. And without further ado, let's get the show on the road._

* * *

Prologue

_We Had It Made for Us_

Everyone in this world has dreams. People have dreams in coming up with antidotes for curing ill people that have to live in hospitals. People have dreams of being a member of Congress, or the whole U.S. government and making changes in politics. People have dreams of inventing products that will change the lives of people around the world. People have dreams of performing in concerts or acting in films and television shows.

Unfortunately, out of the hundred percent that have all of those dreams, the percent that actually achieve those dreams are very minimal. Not that many people cure people that easily. Not that many people can make it into Congress or even the U.S. government. Not that many people can even come up with a product that will change lives. Not that many people can make it through in the performing arts world.

That's not the case for the three girls who came up with the all-girl trio, the Unholy Trinity.

Once upon a time, they could care less about singing. They were the hottest cheerleaders in all of William McKinley. Quinn, Unholy Trinity's lead singer, was the captain of the Cheerios, which was coached by Sue Sylvester. She was a mean woman, and toughened the three ladies during their adventure as struggling cheerleaders. Her sidekicks and best friends, Santana Lopez and Brittany S. Pierce were as popular as she, and extremely hot according to some articles written by the one and only Jacob Ben Israel.

They had only been together for just about a period of time – starting in freshmen connections over the summer to the end of the 2011-2012 school year. All three of them had so much they wanted to do.

Quinn planned on attending the Yale School of Drama, majoring in writing and getting a minor in performing arts. All of those years of being in McKinley's New Directions really paid off for her. In her younger years at some point, she thought people in performing arts businesses – or schools for that matter – were mentally crazy. The boys' and girls' club wasn't much help at the time for her to learn about that. Plus, after going through the troubling and stressful past she's had, it gave her a lot of thoughts. Her fellow Glee club friends taught her that it's not good to keep your feelings bottled up; everyone has a story, and you have to tell it. And at that moment, Quinn immediately thought that there was no time like the present.

And then there was the unstoppable yet irresistible Santana Lopez. Nothing in her college agenda was planned out thoroughly, but all she wanted was to be famous. Fame and popularity; it's what the Unholy Trinity was born with, and that's what Santana wanted to die with. No matter whether she randomly grabs a video camera one day, belts out an Adele number, and posts the content on the widely-popular YouTube; she just happens to run into an agent after performing another kick-ass number in Nationals for the eligible college or her choice; or she gets any old degree from the magical hat of knowledge and winds up being exclusively amazing at it, she just wants it all in some type of way.

Last, but certainly not least, was the witty and whimsical Brittany S. Pierce. Out of every girl in New Directions, she was the best dancer. She could stretch her legs all the way up past her stature, her feet passing her silky, blonde ponytail. Dancing, other than coming up with magical myths and hanging out with her best friends, was one of the things she loved. It's unfortunate for her because she had no idea in the world what she wanted to do. Her mind was so imaginative; she could come up with anything and allow it to come true. Why not her future? Part of the time, she took Santana's advice on being popular – and Cooper Anderson's advice on being an excellent actor – and not attend college, which was considered to both as a waste of time.

Turned out that the vision of Brittany not going to college actually came true. Her grades slipped to an all-time low, causing her to take her seat in the back of a senior classroom and repeat her senior year once again. Her parents, of course, were upset at her. Santana and Quinn, both going after the high school afterlives of their dreams, were limited in seeing the poor blonde, and leaving their high school lives to start new ones in their selected universities.

While Brittany saw this as both an advantage and disadvantage, the two other girls of the Unholy Trinity saw it as only a disadvantage. Sure, to Brittany, it was going to be a real pain in the ass to have to make up for all of those homework assignments and exams she's been slacking on – God, only Ms. Ethel's American Literature test was one of the worst tests in the school. But she got a chance to stay with her fellow members of New Directions, and know that she's not totally alone. Tina was certainly there for as a friend when Santana and Quinn weren't. Maybe she could regain a friendship with Artie Abrams, or start one with Sam Evans or Blaine Anderson. Or some new members with the same qualities and kind heart Brittany had could be her new friend. Who knew?

_Starting together, ending together._

No matter what Brittany did, where the other two headed off to, or what anyone thought, the Unholy Trinity just wanted their gang back together. They missed hanging out after school, having low-fat smoothies and shopping for new clothes. They missed complaining together about how complex the routines for the Cheerios were. They missed posing for photos they would occasionally post on MySpace. They wanted that all back. They wanted the Unholy Trinity back, and not in three different areas near the Midwest.

That opportunity, like the sun rising above the horizon in the summer, came by like never before.

Now, a few years later, their lives have completely changed. They were the biggest stars in Hollywood, California. Their names were plastered on every magazine and newspaper cover, every billboard, every advertisement on the internet. Not to mention the people themselves couldn't get enough of them. People, mostly teenagers and possibly siblings, would go to their concerts, buy their albums, and watch their videos.

Being on top of the world, like they used to be with the Cheerios, was the best feeling they've ever had.

* * *

"Excuse me, people!"

"Hey, you guys!"

"Good night to you all!"

All three members of the Unholy Trinity were leaving a birthday party for a twenty-two-year-old at the Lite Night Club at about ten thirty in the evening. Paparazzi came towards them, blocking their way towards the white van that awaited them at the curb. So many cameras flashed in their faces, and Hollywood interviewers were holding microphones towards them.

The Unholy Trinity's leader, Quinn Fabray, took hold of Brittany S. Pierce and Santana Lopez's hands, pulling them through the ocean of fans and reporters. "Sorry, you all!" Quinn called to everyone. "We've gotta go! We'll catch you at the VMA's, right?" Of course, they couldn't hear them because there was so much commotion.

All three girls were extremely exhausted tonight. They've been in the recording studio for about three hours, a costume fitting for two, and did a one-hour interview with someone from _Access Hollywood_. If anything, they needed the weekend to be doubled so they can get their rest in.

Yeah, that part of celebrity life was hard to put up with. But it was still worth it.

"Unholy Trinity! Unholy Trinity!" A familiar voice called from the crowds. The three girls could easily recognize that voice anywhere. They also recognized that face. An older version of a man walked towards them with a microphone in his hand. Although he was older than the girls knew him as, he still had that Jew fro, glasses, and acne problems he did in high school.

The Latina couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Ugh, _him_ again?" she complained, pulling closer to Quinn.

"Hey, hey guys!" Jacob Ben Israel called, almost tripping over something. The trio's manager barged over, trying to push him away. However, that didn't stop him from asking a couple of questions to the threesome. "I went to school, with them; it's okay," he told his manager.

Hesitantly, Quinn tapped her manager and nodded. "It's true. This is Jew Fro, the one Santana told you about a while ago."

Santana and Brittany both hated him, especially in high school. The boy was such a creep, especially towards Rachel Berry. He would ask anything and try his best to get into her pants – and, of course, each time has failed.

"Unholy Trinity," he began, "I'm Jacob Ben Israel, reporter for _Hot Spot Central_ on Channel 225 –"

"We know who you are, Jacob." Quinn folded her arms in front of her chest, as did Santana and Brittany.

"Girls, how does it feel to have sold the number one album, according to _Star Shine Magazine_?" Jacob interrogated.

Santana scoffed playfully. At least it wasn't something about the underwear commercial they did for _Victoria's Secret_ last year in April. "It was a breeze, come on," she replied. "I mean, look at us. We're the freakin' Unholy Trinity. Anything of ours will end up number one on anything."

Quinn put her hand on Santana's shoulder, almost pulling her back. "At least, that's what she thinks," she responded to Jacob's question. "Me, I'm actually proud of us. We came a long way together, from freshmen year in high school to this point in time. I call that progress."

In response to Quinn's answer, Brittany grabbed her arm closed and snuggled it close to her, her cheek resting on her shoulder.

"Do you have any new projects coming out soon?"

"Just a music video," Quinn replied, and she took a moment to think about what she, Brittany, and Santana actually had to do. "And maybe a fashion show somewhere. I forgot where." Their schedules have been changing so many times, especially this week.

"Ladies, we have to get going," Regina Hills, the girls' manager, announced, grabbing Quinn and Brittany's hands. She turns back to Jacob with a stern look. "Thank you, sir. We're going now."

The trio followed their manager to the white van as the paparazzi followed them with their cameras and microphones. Jacob ran through them and tried calling to the girls for another time. "Unholy Trinity!" he called, but the girls couldn't hear with the door closed and other people trying to get the girls' attention. He knocks on their window and impersonates a cell phone with his hand, holding it beside his ear. "Call me?"

Inside the car, it was silent for the most part. Seated in the middle, Santana glanced at the window where Jacob knocked on and turned away, disgusted. "I knew he would do that," she spoke aloud.

As the car drove away, Quinn stared out the window at the paparazzi. Jacob Ben Israel was the main person in that crowd that stood out. In a way, she was kind of glad to see him again. She was being reminded of high school all over again. The present time sure did seem harder than what past time was. Her sophomore and senior years were the hardest, but they didn't measure to her life right then and there.

Regina, seated in the passenger's seat in front of them, turned to the trio with a grin. "So, how did you gals like the party? Best surprise given to a UT fan in my book, right?"

Brittany nodded. "Totally," the girl spoke. "And even though they didn't have _Pin the Tail on the Donkey_, I still appreciated the activities and fun either way."

Regina and Santana grinned at the girl's comment to childish activities. To think she was still into that stuff.

"Well, we have a music video to work on. You're right, Quinn," Regina explained, checking her cell phone for any new messages. "That'll take place for a couple of hours tomorrow. Then next Saturday will be the fashion show. And for the rest of the week…you'll be free."

Santana sighed and laid her head back in the seat. "Thank God…" she sighed with relief.

"You girls must be so lucky," their manager spoke. "Doing all of these shows, singing all of these songs, gaining all of these fans –"

"You seem to be the luckier one," Quinn spoke with a promising smile. "I mean, you get to manage us and a whole bunch of other people. You made this happen. Celebrities wouldn't be…well, _celebrities_ without managers like you, Reg."

"Well, I'm flattered," the black-haired woman spoke, "but the celebrities are more recognized. Besides, you three should be proud of yourselves. Look at how far you've come. From cheerleaders in high school to a singing trio in Hollywood. What could possibly be better?"

The girls in the back eyed each other with smirks on their faces. Nothing could really be much better for them. They got the most wonderful life. They appreciated all the praise they got. They loved the accomplishments they've made. But most of all, they loved being together, even when they're older than they used to be.

"I like hanging out with you guys," Brittany said satisfyingly, leaning on Santana's shoulder and grabbing her arm. "It's like we're a family."

Santana smiled adorably at the tall blonde. "I love being friends with the both of you, too, Britt," she responded, running her fingers through her long hair. "If we hadn't met each other, we wouldn't be like this, you know? On top of the world like we are now."

"Best moments of my life," Quinn spoke, still looking out the window and smiling.

Her eyes settled on the city lights that glowed in the dark. They were so beautiful. It took about one light bulb for everything to look so pretty out there. They resembled many stars in the sky, separate from the stars lurking around town. She loved looking out in the city late at night. It reminded her that the city had a peaceful side to it, aside from all the celebrity crazes, the violence, and the traffic.

Though on the other hand, she did miss Lima, Ohio. It wasn't as pretty as Hollywood, California; it was still home, though. All of her other friends were back at home. Well, maybe not anymore. Kurt and Rachel are in New York at the moment, probably. She didn't get any updates on people like Sam Evans, Mercedes Jones, or Tina Cohen-Chang in a while.

Quinn really hoped she would get to see them sometime soon.

The van stopped at a red light. The three girls heard a commotion of screams outside the window all of a sudden. They spotted a small crowd of fans shouting their names and holding up fan-made posters. One of the fans, a male, actually had a bouquet of roses in his hands, and seemed to be singing some of the lyrics to one of the girls' songs.

"Quinn, I love you!" the boy called. "Will you call me? I'm around town!"

The petite blonde couldn't help but blush at him. She was nowhere familiar to him, but it was still nice to get a compliment from a couple of people.

"Brittany, over here!"

"Santana, can I get your autograph!"

"Quinn – hey, wait for me!"

The van started back up as the light turned green, and the crowd of fans continued following. They ran as fast as their little feet could carry them. Regina looked back and then to the driver. "Step on it." She declared sternly.

"I'm on it," the driver replied lazily, and he picked up the speed about a couple of miles. Now the mob of fans were too far back to catch up with them.

Quinn snickered. _Sure, the most struggling moments, but the best_.


	2. Ch 1 - September 2012: How It All Began

Chapter One

_How It All Began_

Popularity. There was some type of glory associated with that word. It was a ball of light that shone in a box that seems to have been hidden so long. What was it – _Pandora's Box_?

Whatever it was, it was that one thing everyone seemed to want more than anything in the world. However, it was so hard to get. People would have to do the most amazing or outrageous things for them to be popular. Some of them consider _American Idol_ or _America's Got Talent_ as a good source to gain that popularity. Others do the simple thing and post videos and pictures of themselves on the internet.

For the three Musketeers who once were the tops of the pyramid for the Cheerios, it was pretty much different from all of that.

For instance, popularity at the University of Louisville was unexpected for the brunette Latina. Sure, she wanted her name out there. Hell, she tweeted every student in McKinley High to support, quote "Santana and company" at Regionals last year. Not many people shared the comment nor even brought anything up because, as usual, the Glee club was a sack full of losers begging for their one moment to shine.

What they hadn't realized, though, is that Glee club can get the members of it to expand their horizons and follow many opportunities coming their way.

It only took Santana to sing a couple of songs in the shower and some stunts at her Louisville cheerleading practice just for the school to know what a powerful and sensational girl she is. It wasn't anything special about the fact that cheerleading has basically been her whole life, and singing was that one thing to let loose of her emotions. Actually, some people saw that as a special thing. Singing and cheerleading were the two main things Santana was good at, other than slashing someone with her vicious words or letting out a quip one time or another.

And the things she was especially good at got her love from everyone on campus. The videos and recordings of Santana's singing went viral on YouTube and Twitter within about three hours. People from every college on campus heard the latest on the former Cheerio – what song she belted out, what her favorite trends were, updates on any friends or loved ones from where she came from – anything.

Sure, it was just a little personal, but she didn't mind. Talking about how she missed her friends and loved ones made her think of Quinn and Brittany. Two blondes with different personalities, strengths, and weaknesses; but also had one thing in common with Santana Lopez: they were the two friends she'll never forget about.

When she first made the decision in going to Louisville, Santana thought it would be something she would regret because she didn't want to be stuck with cheerleading all of her life. On the contrary, though, Brittany had planned all of this. She wanted her to have the best life, and that was all she wanted. Even though that meant more work-out routines, low-calorie drinks, and uniform leotards and skirts, it would mean every minute.

And then there was Quinn Fabray. She was literally the head bitch of the whole school until she went through some downfalls. Spending one terrible night with Noah Puckerman has got to be the worst. He was the resident badass in McKinley High School. He slept with every girl he laid his eyes on, and beat up every jackass he could put his fists on. Santana liked him for his guns, smirk, and tenacity and fearlessness. She looked for that in a man every moment before realizing who she really was.

Santana still sort of liked the Mohawk guy, but she hated him even more when realizing that she slept with Quinn. With a couple of wine coolers and no adults in sight, they've become inseparable for a couple of hours, not even knowing what in God's name were they doing. Quinn wouldn't ever betray God and do the most unfaithful thing in the book. She was more Christian than Santana and Brittany put together.

The most unfortunate part of the whole situation was the fact that Quinn had a seed growing in her stomach throughout the rest of her sophomore year. At that point, she felt that she was losing everything – her Cheerios spot, her ungrateful father, her boyfriend that was claimed to be the baby's father, her cleanliness, and her popularity. She was so upset with herself for attempting this with him. She hadn't seen her father in years, ever since he hooked up with a tattooed freak her mother told her about.

The poor girl was so broken then; and even though Santana has had rivalries with her, she still felt conflicted about her and her situation. Boy, did she want to go to Puck's place and surprise him with a slap in the face. Ever since then, despite some of their foolish rivalries, she and Quinn have still been close friends as they have before the point of the drama.

* * *

About three days after the _celebrity for a day_ maneuver, Santana was in the library looking at some books for a test she had to study for. The one thing she hated was having her schedule booked solid. She not only had two or three tests for the day, but she had cheer practice sometime in the afternoon, which was the majority of the stress that had been tying her down lately. She felt like she wouldn't ever get that relaxation she had back in high school ever again.

And at the moment, she felt like she was being watched.

She turned behind her. A redhead was staring at her, her black eyes darkening at the sight of the girl in the red and black uniform. Santana assumed that she was some type of Goth girl; she wore so many dark clothes, and she always had that sly smile on her face. What did she want with her? Sure, everyone knew about her since that whole show-and-tell incident a couple of days ago, but something about this right here made Santana confused.

_Virginia Wolfe_. This girl read a lot of _Virginia Wolfe_ when she came into the library. No professor would use that book for any assignments, from what Santana knew. And she still had that glare on her face when Santana noticed her.

She…she could possibly be a lesbian, could she?

Brittany was Santana's first and only love. She can't ever deny the love and friendship she has with her blonde beauty. She made her laugh on days when she moped or cried. She was so smart, even though people called her dumb. She knew the solution to almost anything.

Now Santana wouldn't ever cheat on the poor girl, and Brittany wouldn't cheat on her, either. They both give themselves up to each other. They don't deny each other, not even back when they were just best friends.

But…well, what was with Santana now? She's staring back at a girl who's not her girlfriend. A tingle of sensation blew over her, and she didn't know why. She shouldn't be like this. That tingle should be coming from staring at Brittany S. Pierce, and not…well, who was she?

Maybe she'll find out later on. In the meantime, she found out, she slightly smiled back, being friendly as possibly.

All the girl thought of when she turned back to her books was seeing that girl almost every day when she attended her classes. She wasn't familiar with her at all, but she felt like she'll be haunting her brain every day. Her senses were telling her that she was something fresh and hot, coming out of the oven; her heart told her that she should feel like she's burning in hell for feeling whatever type of attraction she had with that random girl.

She directed her attention back to the book she had on the table with her. _C.G. Benson, Back in History_. The book was so old; the ratty old thing had been first used in 2001. How come this university doesn't throw out their old books in place of the new ones?

She looked on page 233, the page she had to study for her test. She kept reading the little passages, and then got lost in her reading.

That girl's face kept coming to her every time she tried focusing on what she needed to do. To think she was still _behind_ her as well. Santana was at her uncomfortable, unsteady state at the moment. She couldn't go on like this. She needed out.

The brunette brought her books out of the library and into the hallway, sitting on a velvet bench that had awaited her presence. The books were so heavy; God, she had a lot to study, although it has only been a couple of weeks since school went back in session.

As she tried to get everything situated, her black purse fell to the ground. Her phone book, cell phone, and make-up bag slipped out. _Clumsy ass me_, she thought as she retrieved her belongings.

And then, the face of an angel came into her vision. Brittany S. Pierce.

A miniature-sized photo of the blonde Cheerio had fallen out of Santana's phone book. On the photo, the blonde was holding pompons in her hands, flourishing them joyously. Her smile, like her blue eyes, was bright. Her hair was golden. Her cheer was infectious. How could she leave all of that behind in Lima, Ohio? Staying there with her would've been the better choice for her.

"_Brittany…_" Santana whispered at the picture in her perfectly-manicured hands. "_Please don't forget about me._" She know she won't. After all, she was her best friend and soul mate. No one ever forgets their soul mate. Even if that person had to be as witty as Santana's beloved girlfriend, no one – not even her – would forget.

The Latina sighed. She missed her so much. She felt so…naked without her. _Come on, Santana Lopez_, she thought to herself, _do not cry in public_.

"Excuse me." Santana looked up from Brittany's picture. An almost balding man had shown up out of nowhere. His red tie was set perfectly on his chest, his tan jacket and pants were perfectly groomed on him, and his white hairs were neatly combed on his head.

"Oh, hey Mr. Law," Santana spoke with a little bit of enthusiasm towards the dean of the university.

The pale man turned his attention to the set of books that lay on the bench beside the Louisville cheerleader. "I see you're prepping for the big test," he observes. "You keep doing well, hear me?"

_Really? Was that all he came for_, Santana thought in the back of her mind. "Oh, I will," Santana said, grabbing her books and bag and rising from her seat.

"Before you go," Mr. Law added, "you're needed in the principal's office down at the administrator's building. Someone has come in for you, and they're enthused to share something with you."

Santana pondered over the last part as she walked beside the dean. Could Brittany possibly be in town to see her? Was it her mother, Maribel? She distracted herself from most questions like that, and directed her attention around the corridors of the study hall. Everything had mahogany colors or something rich and royal-like. The brunette couldn't believe how fancy the area was.

"So Santana…" the dean spoke. To the college freshman, the conversation started getting awkward as it started. "You came from Lima, Ohio, correct?"

"From William McKinley High, yes," Santana answered.

"What was your old school like?" The doors were pushed open for Santana as she stepped out of the building. "I read on your recommendation letter that you have been a member of the McKinley Cheerios for all four years."

"Yeah, I…" Santana started to say before she blanked out. "I was captain for two years."

"Did you love it back then?"

"Pretty much. I mean, our coach nearly broke our bones, but it was something I loved once I came there." Santana felt as if that was a lie. She had been athletic since around nine years old, that was true. But she didn't want to be a cheerleader all her life. She had other things she wanted to accomplish. Besides, she mostly joined for the popularity, especially since she started becoming friends with Quinn Fabray and Brittany S. Pierce. Plus, the amount of times Sue Sylvester has yelled at her and the other Cheerios in pain has lost its affect.

"Is that how you feel about completing the scholarship you got for cheerleading here?" the dean asked, which Santana's answer will probably be a lie as well.

"Of course," Santana replied, clutching onto her books and bag. The sun glowed on their heads as they walked down the pathway through the grassy area of the campus. Her thumb caressed her hand as she held her books in her arms. Every day being at the University of Louisville, just like being on the Cheerios at McKinley, will end up being like getting a tan almost every day.

"What made you want to come here?" the dean asked, turning to some yellow daffodils for a moment. "Everyone has a motivation for attending the University of Louisville. So…why you?"

Santana knew the answer to that.

She wanted to make her girlfriend proud. She helped her get that scholarship. She wanted her to be well known. She wanted her to have the best she could possibly get. There was no other way. Brittany pretty much saved her life and got her the education here at the university.

And when Santana found out that she had to repeat her senior year, it devastated her. She always thought Brittany was smart, even though others thought otherwise. She hadn't mentioned anything about her grades up until that little dinner at Breadstix with Santana's mother. If only she could have. She'd be smarter than the Latina already thought she was.

Now, Santana was doing this for her. Not only because she was her girlfriend and Santana loved what she did for her, but so she can set an example as if Brittany were her little sister. Brittany needed out of McKinley so she can head on off to college with her and pursue any dream she wants. Santana was going to help her with that, hopefully, if studying and cheerleading in Kentucky didn't hold her down.

"I got a lot of motivation from a…friend back in McKinley," Santana explained. "She was the one who got me this scholarship, actually."

"What college does she attend?"

"She's not in college right now. She…she's not even graduated from high school yet."

"Underclassman, I assume?"

"No. Repeating her senior year. I mean, she could've told me about her academic issues earlier on before the weeks preceding the big graduation day, but…well, I guess she didn't want to upset me. I don't know."

Mr. Law nodded understandably, looking ahead as the sun shined in his eyes. "She would need to step it up then," he replied in an acceptable tone. "Seems like she prefers committing to other people's lives than her own. She has her own life to worry about."

Santana shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

A part of him was right, though. Brittany wanted to make Santana happy, but she wasn't making herself happy, especially with those grades of hers. If she wanted to be successful in this world, she would need to step it up in high school, and try to move up as much as she can.

It had been a long walk from the study hall. Neither one of them knew how much time passed when they were talking and stuff. The sun bathed them, and as Santana put her hand on her head for a moment, she felt the burn from the sun's rays. The books in her hands were getting heavy, and she wanted to put them down so badly.

Luckily enough, she and Mr. Law arrived at the administrator's building. The dean opened the door for her, and she walked through the corridors of the building. Mr. Law directed her to the principal's office, which was about five steps to her left, near the end of the hallway.

On the door marked _Mr. Matthew Dane, Principal_. The glass on the door was hard to see through, but she spotted a silhouette of a man in a chair at his desk. Santana swallowed hard at the lump in her throat, and made her way inside the room. Two women, relatively in their twenties or so, accompanied the principal: one was a blonde with glasses, holding a clipboard and dressed in a pants suit, and the other was a black-haired woman with caramel skin and green eyes. She had an orange tank top and a matching, floral skirt.

"Santana," the black-haired woman spoke with charm and the widest smile Santana has ever seen. It made her feel so awkward inside. She knew nothing of these people. Were they supposed to be therapists or something. "Come in and have a seat."

The brunette took a moment to search around the place. Everything turned out to be so strange. What did these people want?

The office inside was dark due to the paint job done inside. Many books sat on shelves sitting on the perimeter, and a couch lay on the back wall nearest the door. Three chairs were facing the principal's desk, with the black-haired lady seated in the one furthest to the right.

Santana wasn't sure if she was going to be pulled into something, or had already gotten into some trouble in the first weeks of school. Either way, she did as told and took the middle seat beside the black-haired lady. Mr. Law took the seat closest to the left of the room. Her eyes kept going to their corners, from the dean to the two ladies and back.

"This lady," Principal Dane spoke, directing Santana's attention to the black-haired lady, "is a manager. Her name is Regina Hills. And this is her assistant, Marjorie." Both women waved at the Latina, with matching smiles and positive attitudes. "Ladies, share with Santana what you have for her."

Santana brought her hands together, still holding onto the books into her hands. Surprisingly, she was nervous as to what they were doing here. She hadn't gotten into any trouble since she attended the university. Did her mother call a dean at another school and request a transfer? She loved her mother so much, but if that happened, she would throw the biggest fit ever.

"Well, to start off," Regina began, "we came all the way from California. I work as a manager for clients in the music industry, mostly pop and R&B. I've been working at Spark USA Records for about five to nine years now, and I manage about eight music stars."

Santana cocked her eyebrow, impressed.

"And, um, I've been her assistant for a year now," Marjorie spoke, "so I'm practically new to this whole thing. But I plan schedules and flights and stuff. Any concert, any vacation, any visit – you're there."

While Santana found this interesting, she still didn't know what this all had to do with her. "Okay, so why am I here again? I don't get it, really."

Regina cleared her throat and looked the brunette in her eyes. "May I ask you? Have you ever had a dream so hard to achieve? Everyone in this world has some type of American dream. You know, like being a song artist, an actor, a doctor or dentist, or the next United States president. What was your American dream?"

Santana never really thought about that.

Actually, back in high school, she thought about being famous. She even told Mr. Schue and the members of New Directions that she, in fact, would be famous. Whatever it took, she would have her name out there, and people screaming her name with joy.

Maybe the transfer to the University of Louisville made her forget about that.

"Well, back in high school," Santana began, "I wanted to be famous. I wasn't really sure what I would be doing, exactly, but –"

"Well, what's one thing you love doing?"

Santana took another minute to think. "I like clothes shopping…singing – after realizing that in Glee club, that is –"

Regina seemed impressed with her. "So you _do_ like to sing?"

"Well…yes. Nothing else can help me convey that type of emotion that's stuck somewhere inside of me. I have a lot to be mad and upset about right now – even now when I'm here in Louisville. I have problems with keeping up with friends…and actually _keeping_ friends, sometimes. The one I love is back in Lima, feeling miserable having to stay in that choir room for another year. My abuela has problems with me, which are unsolved."

Everyone in the room nodded. Marjorie had even taken notes on what Santana said into her clipboard.

"Wait, what did you just put down?" Santana got curious as to what Marjorie was writing.

"I was just getting a couple of notes on your background," Marjorie explained calmly, and her direction turned back to her notepad. "You know, some of the things you like, your strengths –"

"So you two came here to barge into my business, right?"

The dean took a stand from his seat and placed his manly hands onto the Latina's shoulders, trying to keep her from starting a riot. "Not to worry, Santana. It's not like they're going to stalk you or anything –"

"_It sure did seem like it_," the brunette mumbled.

"Actually, all of this they're doing is a good thing."

"Why would it be a good thing? I already came from a God-forsaken high school where they enrolled a nerdy creep as a blog publisher and school reporter, attempting to get into the pants of Glee girls every chance he gets." The principal and the dean turn to each other with perplexed facial expressions. "Then I come here, and two women – not two men – two _women_ interrogate me and write stuff about me for their little hidden camera show."

"That's all part of the surprise. Trust us," the principal spoke.

"What surprise? I end up on _Punk'd_, and I make a visit to Lima where my friends embarrass me? Not worth it."

"Do you want to know what all of this is worth then?" Regina encouraged.

"Maybe. Is it some type of reality TV show or something?"

"One day, it might be."

Santana's only reaction to that was the furrowing of her eyebrows. What the hell was she talking about? Did she actually mean Santana would be on a reality TV show someday? Was she trying to play with her thoughts or something?

But then, her mind suddenly became clear once the black-haired woman handed her a three-page contract.

"Oh – oh, my God." The girl was almost speechless. She read through every line of the documents. "I – I get to be signed for a recording studio?" Everything was happening so fast. Adrenaline rushed through her body so quickly. She was losing her mind. She was as ecstatic as someone back in Lima who had won the lottery.

"Yes, sweetness," Regina said with a satisfied smile. "All you have to do is sign and fill everything out, and we can get you sent to California in the nick of time." Santana was so relieved. This was the moment she's been waiting for all her life. People back in Glee club thought she wouldn't get this opportunity in a lifetime. They were stood corrected again by the determined and flawless Santana Lopez.

But as she read the contract, she knew what all of this meant.

Brittany was still back in Lima, alone crying in her room probably and wondering why the Latina wasn't picking up her phone. Santana promised her that she would call each day and get an update from the blonde, but work has been keeping the two so separate.

Then she started thinking of Quinn. Santana, Quinn, and Brittany were the Unholy Trinity. They start and end together, as always. The petite blonde was back in Connecticut somewhere for college. Why were her girls so separate from her? If only there were a way to –

Unless…

"May I ask one favor?" the brunette asked, with Regina and Marjorie leaning forward attentively.

Quinn and Brittany were going to love this.


	3. Ch 2: The Surprise Announcement

Chapter Two

_The Surprise Announcement_

"Thank you, Coach Sylvester. You won't regret this; I'm sure of it."

This was turning out to be one of the best days ever. Had God made her wish come true? Santa Claus? Rory the Leprechaun?

Whatever miracle made it happen, Brittany was still happy. She had gotten her Cheerios uniform back after proving to the cheer coach that she would improve in her academic success. She knew she would try and do better once Sue announced she would be back on the squad. Not just because she was tired of people calling her stupid, but because she wanted to feel as accomplished as many of the students who have graduated from McKinley High.

It had been several days since the uniform was placed on the girl's porcelain body. She felt so important every time she wore it. Sure, every girl on the Cheerios wore it, but it made Brittany feel like she was a part of something – if Glee club didn't already.

The leotard, once zipped up, felt a tad snug on her. Maybe she should've laid off the cookies and chips during her time off. Good think the skirt fit, though. The girl then tied her hair in a perfect ponytail in the back of her head, and slipped the clean, white tennis shoes on her feet.

She suddenly grew that confidence she had in her before losing the uniform. Voiceovers were coming to her in her head out of nowhere. She literally imagined herself as a reality TV show.

_It's my time again. Thank goodness. I regained my Cheerios uniform, my high pony, and best of all – my conscience. I'm starting to get good grades now that Mr. Schue and Emma Pillsbury are coaching me. Now I've got something to say about all of this_.

She walked out of the bathroom stall towards the sink, eyeing herself in the mirror with a smirk on her face. "Brittany's back, bitches!" she exclaimed. She knew someone was probably listening to her. That would sometimes happen when she had those voiceovers in her head and the spark driving through her veins.

"Yeah, I can see that."

The tall blonde rolled her eyes. She recognized that voice anywhere. It was that snarky evilness Santana had sometimes, but this was a different kind of snarky. Brittany didn't like it at all.

Another Cheerio had come out of the bathroom, having already changed into her cheerleading uniform after her gym session. She had spotted Brittany with hers as she slipped out of the smelly, red gym shirt and into her red, white, and black leotard.

"So…" The girl had started up the conversation, unenthused. "Sylvester let you back on?"

"Yes. I have renewed my spot on the Cheerios," Brittany replied, dignified, "and your plan to try to stop me any way you can has been backfired."

"Oh, I was never trying to _kick_ you off the Cheerios –"

"Save it, Kitty. Okay? Oh, and by the way, I'm going to keep the Unholy-Trinity tradition up – you know, my other two friends have all been successful captains on this squad…or at least Quinn _used_ to until she got pregnant –" The Cheerio, identified as Kitty, snickered under her breath. "Anyway, I will be cheer captain and make them proud. They've made the school proud. Why not I make them?"

"Because you're hopeless."

"What makes you think so?"

Kitty turned towards the girl and gaped, making it obvious. "Look at you. You got a freakin' 0.0 GPA last year and didn't even graduate. You should be in college right now." The short blonde, after washing her hands and while taking out her makeup bag, took a moment and snickered again. "And I thought Lady Hummel was the only underachiever from this school."

"Kurt's not an underachiever; he's smarter than Mitt Romney."

"But back to you." The tone in Kitty's voice got serious. Every time she tried focusing on Brittany in this situation, though, she couldn't help but think of the many ironic things about her. It made her laugh on the inside. "I'm still surprised that Sue even _considered_ bringing you back. Even though you're getting the help you need, you still don't have the right GPA for the squad. So what makes you think that the Cheerios would want a leader with knowledge as poor as Hispanic neighborhoods?"

"Because the Cheerios would want someone inspirational."

Kitty took out a small, pink eyelash comb and brushed at her long, thin eyelashes. Her blue eyes glittered in the fluorescent lighting. "And how the hell are _you_, of all people, are inspirational?" she quipped.

"Well, I've been going through a rough time in school, since Santana came out last year and her leaving was one of the most devastating things that happened to me," Brittany explained. "Then I realized that I have everything right in front of me all along. Of course I have my friends in Glee club, but I also have the Cheerios, Santa Claus, my athletic body, and my love for dancing. I can use those to help me improve myself. They're my motivation."

_Okay, what in God's name was that about_, Kitty wanted to say.

Kitty knew inspiration when she saw it. Katy Perry is an inspiration; she, telling by one of her albums, has been going through a rough time, relatively with her love life. It hit a rocky road, but then realized that she didn't need it, and had the independence to move on. All of that was pretty much explained in a song Kitty listened to a hundred times over the summer.

But whatever Brittany was talking about didn't seem like inspiration to her. It sounded like Brittany was just spitting words out. Anyone can miss someone, whether they're moving away to another city forever, dead from a disease or injury, or just gone for a couple of days or even weeks. Sure, most as devastated – mainly for the death part – but those who had people who moved or were absent for a while didn't mind much.

The short blonde shook her head. "Oh, Brittany. You will not make it out of here alive," Kitty finally spoke, putting her eyelash comb away and taking out some mango lip gloss. "I would have to watch you roam the halls of McKinley High for another two years. And somewhere around the time I graduate from Miami University, you would still be here. What age is that again, twenty-two?"

"No, I won't. I would've graduated then."

"And then what? Is the college drop-out thing pending in your mind somewhere?"

"No, I'll go wherever Santana's going. I promised I'd be with her once I graduated from McKinley. Nothing would separate us."

Kitty shook her head, placing the mango lip gloss in her makeup bag. "_And you said you realized everything was right in front of you all along; yet, you still think about her –_"

"What did you say?"

Brittany had stopped Kitty in her tracks, right in front of the girls' bathroom entrance. Her hands were on her hips, staring down at the short blonde in front of her.

"Uh, I have to get to class," the shorter blonde reminded her.

Brittany folded her arms, still looking down at her. "Let me remind you – okay? – that I am Brittany S. Pierce, senior class president of McKinley High School. Your bullying is going to stop at once –"

"What bullying?"

"Now like I said, I _will_ be captain again…and you're not going to stop me."

That was the rush of power the tall blonde dancer needed all day. That Cheerios uniform did some wonderful stuff to her, eternally. She's brave enough to say or do whatever she can. Plus, Kitty has only been to McKinley for two years. What would she know about running the Cheerios anyway?

She wouldn't know as much as Brittany, that's for sure.

Satisfied with her courage, she smoothed her skirt out and marched on out of the bathroom. Before she made it to sixth period, another Cheerio had ran up to her – Becky Jackson.

"Principal Figgins and Mr. Schuester want to see you in the principal's office right away," the Downs girl spoke as clearly as she could.

Brittany was just about getting tired of people calling upon her so much, especially these last couple of days. It's almost as if she gets in trouble almost every day, and she doesn't even do anything. She only wondered what Mr. Schue and Figgins wanted with her now. Did she set a piano on fire? Slushie an autistic kid? Threaten to kill a freshman?

It had been only moments before Brittany had arrived in the principal's office. A wrinkly man with a dark suit was sitting at the desk, as usual; another man with a plaid shirt and black tie accompanied him in the room, seated on the leather couch.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Schue?" the blonde told her Glee club coordinator.

"Yes, we did." Mr. Schue didn't seem to have much of a serious tone. Maybe Brittany was making more progress than she thought. "Actually, there's something important but thrilling we would like to share with you."

Curious as to what was going on, the blonde Cheerio took a seat in one of the chairs facing Figgins' desk, and Mr. Schue joined her in the neighboring seat.

"Brittany," the principal began, "we have gotten a call from Regina Hills. She is a manager all the way from Hollywood, California."

"Was she involved with the Justin Bieber trials?" the blonde asked.

Neither adult replied to that question.

"She has something very exciting for you to be a part of…and I assure you that you'll love it. That is, if you're willing to take the opportunity."

Brittany sat there attentively. She was willing to take any opportunity, especially if it was something thrilling as Mr. Schue said. Maybe someone entered her in a contest, and the prize was a trip to Honolulu, Hawaii. She's always wanted to go there; it seemed to have better weather conditions there than Lima – or any place for that matter. Maybe she got to do the routine for the Glee club at a special event. Sure, Mike Chang wasn't there to help choreograph, but she was just as good of a dancer as he was.

So many questions popped through the Cheerio's mind. Anything thrilling could possibly be thrown at her. She kept wondering as the seconds past.

And then, her life flashed before her eyes as she's given a scanned document.

_This…this can't be_. But it really was.

* * *

The students down at Yale University have been dismissed for the day. It was a good thing, too. Quinn was so exhausted that she could sleep for a nonstop week.

Thank goodness she got to go out with some of her Yale friends.

The oldest one, Lizzie, requested for Quinn to come with her and a couple of other student to the Yale Lounger, the campus' coffee shop and study center. Lizzie was only a junior, but she made Quinn feel welcome and gave her several tours around. She had a boyfriend, Trenton Raymond, and he was Quinn's second male friend coming to Yale – first being a freshman named Eddie Frankfurt.

All four of them, along with two freshmen girls named Beatrice McCoy and Samantha Douglas, were at the Yale Lounger after school, seated in a booth area. They all had lattes and completed their homework for the next day. In between finishing work and drinking their lattes, they had random conversations with each other.

"So, where are you going after Yale?" the petite blonde asked Lizzie a couple of people down from her. "You graduate next year."

The chestnut-haired girl shrugged. "I considered heading on to Miami or something, and get inspiration on songs. I like to sing, mostly R&B and love songs. And I have an older cousin that lives down there; he graduated from Berklee College of Music, and then started up a recording studio in Florida. He wanted to assist once I got my degrees in performing arts and music."

Intrigued, Quinn nodded to everything she said. Music and performing arts seemed pretty interesting now that she graduated from a high school with so much inspiration and excitement from one amazing Glee club.

"I'm going to Los Angeles and work with my uncle who's a music agent," Trenton explained. "He said he was going to coach me with my singing, and once I'm good enough, we could possibly work on an album together."

"That's nice," Quinn replied, sipping her latte through her straw. "I mean, since you don't have much of a father figure and all –"

The girl suddenly paused at what she just said.

Trenton's father had left him at around seven years old. He and his wife broke up after an affair and child custody. Ever since then, Trenton hasn't seen his old man. Most of the time, it would be hard to discuss his father with other people. He would cover that up by talking about music and stuff on YouTube he would watch that would make him laugh.

Now, Quinn felt like she made a big mistake. The Yale Lounger wasn't the right time to break down, especially when the place was full of a bunch of people relaxed, studying, and enjoying their drinks.

"I'm…I'm so sorry." She hoped he accepted her apology. "It kinda slipped out, and I know how much that has affected you –"

"No worries." The boy held his hands in front of him in defense. "It's mostly deep conversations like the ones at therapy for me to get that emotional."

"Are you sure?" She didn't seem so much convinced at first.

"Positive."

The blonde was still nervous about what she said. She and Trenton can practically relate in terms of having family problems. She can still remember her dad leaving her mother. Judy had said it had something to do with a tattooed freak he met, and she moved out of the house into a new one.

And that was right around the time Quinn got pregnant.

That was the worst time of Quinn's life other than being stuck in a wheelchair for a couple of months. She had to deal with walking down the halls of McKinley and feeling like an outcast. People would stare at the growth of her stomach, whispering rumors behind her back. She wasn't supposed to be that way; she was supposed to be the one they eyed positively and treated her with respect – at least that's what the old Quinn would've said.

The new Quinn was different. The new Quinn was in the Yale University School of Drama, her life only beginning, and is trying to make it into the world with a successful degree.

* * *

She spent the rest of her time with her Yale friends at the Yale Lounger for another hour, and then headed back to her dorm. The latte helped her relax just a little bit, plus the little tour Lizzie gave for her. But excluding all the fun, Quinn needed a few moments to lay back.

Once she entered the cluttered dorm room, she kicked her shoes off and placed them on the side of the door near the coat rack and the umbrella holders with two umbrellas in them.

Her roommate wasn't anywhere in sight. Quinn assumed that she was at the library cramming for an exam, or out in another city in Connecticut, visiting her aunt, uncle, and two cousins. She would always tell stories of how they camped in the summer and hanging out on New Year's Eve. Now that she's living in a college life, she doesn't get to see them that much.

The blonde sat on the couch and faced the thirty-two-inch television in front of her. She couldn't think of any good show that was on right now, nor an entertaining movie she could watch. She thought about tuning in to _The Vampire Diaries_ or _Supernatural_, but she's been caught up with too much to figure out what happened in the previous episodes.

Before she turned the television on, her eyes had drawn to an envelope on the coffee table below her. Her roommate must have placed it there before she left. Quinn saw the name and address of the person who sent the letter.

_Regina Hills, Manager_

_PO Box 5573 Hollywood Dell (Apt. 33)_

_Hollywood, California 90068_

This Regina person knew who Quinn was; but somehow, Quinn didn't know who she was. Quinn didn't know anyone with that name or address. She knew a relative that lived in Los Angeles, but that was her older cousin, James, and his father and little sister.

What did this Regina Hills person want? And what is she a manager for?

Quinn stopped thinking so much and just opened the envelope. There was a one-page letter typed just for her. Quinn's eyes inched over every single word in the letter, and then widened as she continued reading. Her mind was tossing and turning at this point. She got a little excited and lightheaded. Was this really happening to her? Did this Regina person really do this for her?

And then she found out that she wasn't the only one in this.

_You and the other members of the Unholy Trinity have been chosen by me to be the next big stars. Are you up for the challenge?_

Santana and Brittany.

* * *

_Author's Note: This chapter is a little shorter than the last. My problem with my fan fics, I believe, is that I make the chapters too long. I'll work on that in the future, probably._


	4. Ch 3: Making Choices

Chapter Three

_Making Choices_

There was so much excitement going on Quinn Fabray's head that she couldn't sit still.

She actually received a letter from someone from Hollywood, California, being asked to be the next big stars in the music industry along with Santana and Brittany. The Unholy Trinity got to get back together – even though it's only been a few months since they've been apart. Whether it's been about two or three months, or even a whole year, the girls missed each other. So many tears were shed at graduation.

Now the tears of the girls' goodbyes were gone, but they weren't coming back.

Quinn kept her mouth shut about this when her roommate came back, and for almost the rest of the day. She wanted her to be surprised. She wanted to announce her letter in a way that would be special. It wa so hard for her since she was so excited about getting this offer. Sure, there were a lot of things to think about such as losing privacy, gaining a whole bunch of fans, leaving school –

Leaving school…already?

Quinn already loved life in Yale University. She loved the drama school she's attending. She loved the friends she made when she came to Yale. She loved college life as it began, minus the access work and difficulty getting from place to place. Now that she got this offer to be a celebrity, she was going to have to leave school her behind.

What was she going to do? What were Brittany and Santana going to do? They don't know much about caring for themselves yet, and already, someone's willing to take care of that for them. Plus, they won't get the knowledge they need, especially poor Brittany. The blonde dancer is still in high school with a low GPA, and someone or something's gotta help her out.

Quinn took a moment to think about all of this as she took a warm shower. The water felt so good against her porcelain skin and her thin, blonde hair. Her thoughts weren't that clear, of course, because she was so drawn to the water sprinkling on her naked body. Her toes curled up, her eyes fluttered shut, and her back shivered. _God, this feels like heaven_.

Later that evening, Quinn had changed into some plaid pajama pants and a white, short-sleeved T-Shirt. She then logged onto her Skype to find the other two girls. Luckily, Brittany had just logged on ten minutes ago, and Santana made it on just after Quinn.

Both Brittany and Santana seemed exhausted from school today. Quinn didn't want them to pass out yet; something's been stuck in her mind all day.

"Guys, did you get a letter today? Something to do with becoming stars or –"

"I did," Brittany spoke immediately. "Mr. Schue and Principal Figgins gave it to me."

"Well, where did it come from, and how did they discover us?" As much as Quinn loved the offer that was put on the table, she wasn't sure how all of this came to be. Had one of Jacob's blogs gone viral in the past year or something? That can't be, because only most of the tech nerds, newspaper editors, and a couple of Glee club members have read those.

Santana knew what this was about, but wanted a clarified explanation. "Who was it from?"

"Someone named Regina Halls," Quinn spoke, eyeing the paper with the creases on it from the folds. "She's all the way from California, and she's a manager for many people in the music industry, she says."

_Yep, it was definitely from her_, Santana thought as she stared into the screen.

"How could someone from California discover us?" Brittany fumbled over the thought.

Santana was silent for a couple of seconds. How would she tell them about this? She had no clue on how they could be discovered in just a matter of weeks, especially after the videos and stuff went viral on the internet. Louisville Santana was turning into the old, bitchy Cheerio Santana: sucking up all the popularity and having more masculine arms around her than before when she was in high school.

She turned to Brittany on the left side of the screen, and then to Quinn on the right. They were excited and curious at the same time. She had to tell them either way.

"Guys…I think I know." She sounded pretty awkward, but she could care less.

"How?" the blonde Cheerio asked.

Santana's eyes shut for a brief second before opening them and spilling the beans. "I've been…well, considered popular here at Louisville, right?"

Quinn moaned off to the side. "_Oh God, not the boob job –_"

"No, it's not that." She really wished Quinn would get over that petty crap from junior year. "I'm…I guess you can say, a _trend_ of some sorts at the university."

Both blondes were still perplexed.

"The day before it all occurred, nothing really happened, to tell you the truth. All I remember doing was going to the usual, boring classes and carrying on with my schedule. I guess it may have happened somewhere between me taking a shower one night and getting ready for class the next day –"

Quinn furrowed her eyebrows. _Taking a shower_? She had no clue as to what Santana was talking about. "What does taking a shower have anything to do with –"

"Allow me to get to that part of the story, Fabray, and you'll know."

Quinn covered her mouth with her hands, hiding the smirk that was growing on her face. That was the same Santana Lopez everyone knew her as.

"I had been using the co-ed bathrooms they provided for us, which, by the way, is just the worst and most disgusting idea ever imagined by man" – Brittany nodded in response – "and I guess someone's been paying attention to me or something. I don't know. I was jamming along with a Black Eyed Peas number – was it "Imma Be"…or maybe "My Humps" or something?"

Santana couldn't possibly remember the wide variety of songs she had on her IPod. Her IPod consisted of over two hundred songs, more than Quinn and Brittany's IPods put together. She had most of the Top 40s on her ITunes account, and the majority of her songs came from artists like Alicia Keys, Beyonce, or any other R&B singer. God, the song "No One" just hadn't gotten out of her head since yesterday.

"Anyway, I was singing the song," Santana continued, "and then an audio video of me was playing on MySpace –"

Brittany clutched at the throw pillow that was sitting on her bed beside her extremely fluffy cat, Lord Tubbington. "Do I miss getting on MySpace or what?" the Cheerio sighed.

"Who recorded you?" Quinn asked. It was hard to believe someone would walk into a co-ed bathroom and record someone's singing like they were some type of stalker or something. She didn't want Santana to get hurt. What if this whole thing was a call for sex or something?

The Louisville cheerleader shrugged. "I didn't see. All I know is that whoever did it had posted it on their account on MySpace, and everyone sent positive comments to it – at least, that's what I heard from a couple of boys from the Louisville marching band and football team."

"Then what?"

"The video spread. And I guess they found my MySpace account, because I saw so many updates and stuff on videos I posted from Sectionals and Regionals of junior and senior year. Then about two weeks later –"

Shock swarm over the tall, blonde Cheerio. "It's been happening for two weeks?"

"Yes," Santana explained to her girlfriend. "So after those two weeks – which was today, actually – the dean of the school sent me to the principal. I assumed that I was either asked to assist with something or I had gotten in trouble, which was ridiculous since I haven't done anything since I've been here. Anyway, he called me into the principal's office, and the first thing I see other than the decorated room were two women in chairs in front of a desk. One was Regina – she had black hair – and another was a blonde named Marjorie."

Quinn and Brittany's eyes bugged out of their heads. _Regina. Regina Hills_. They knew that name from the letter they had received. Neither blonde could believe what they were hearing. It was so surprising, but they were so excited too. This _out of nowhere_ miracle was the break they were looking for.

"Regina –" Quinn gaped. "She – it was actually her?"

"Yeah. They actually came by the University of Louisville to visit me. And they started asking me what I've always wanted to do or what I wanted to be – something like that. Of course, I got as confused as hell because I thought they were making a reality TV show about someone stalking someone else's life –"

"But?" Brittany asked with a sly smile, even though she had a hint on what Santana was going to say next.

"But she actually saw star quality in me," Santana continued. "After hearing me sing and watching us in the competitions in Glee club, she considered me as an actual star." Santana's breath was being taken away. Her smile spread. The same with her hands in front of her. "That's it! I am a _star_, she says. And then, being that I didn't want to leave you guys behind, I asked them about you."

"You did?" the petite blonde asked.

"Yes. I told them about what you guys were like – you know, what you looked like, what talent you guys had, the friendships we had – and then I showed them some of the videos I had on my account. She was impressed with them, and she sent those letters to you. She actually wants to see you guys, too!"

Brittany couldn't contain her happiness. She was literally pouncing up and down on her bed, clutching onto her throw pillow more and causing the cat on the bed to prance away onto the floor. She didn't notice because she was drowned in so much surprising and amazing news. "Santana, I – I can't believe you did this!" the girl called through the screen. "My God, I – this is amazing!"

Santana blushed at the playfully happy Cheerio. She missed how cheery and squeaky she would get at good news. There's been so much tension between her, cheerleading, homework and tests, and trying to make time for herself. Brittany made that all better for her – at least for a little while.

Quinn was just as surprised as her blonde best friend. However, she had something else on her mind. As awesome as a record deal sounded, she couldn't help but think of what they would sacrifice. She had already gotten into Yale, and Santana into the University of Louisville. Brittany is yet to graduate and is still in McKinley. What would become of their education? Plus, there's even longer distance with friends from New Directions –

There was so much Quinn thought about as the news about how she and her best friends got discovered. She was so used to Yale already – the hot spots, the people, the classes. And already, she has to make the decision to ditch the place to go to Hollywood for the rest of her life. Sure, Quinn always wanted to be an actress, but one of her goals was to graduate from Yale at the top of her class. People would see her as a drop-out.

"Yeah…" She started to speak after the few seconds of thought. "What about Louisville, Santana? And Yale for me. And McKinley for Brittany. We're still in school, if you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, well, I never really wanted to stay here that much at all, to be honest," Santana confessed. "It was from a very special person in my life – yes, you're looking directly at her –" Brittany gushed at the comment – "and I wanted to fulfill that scholarship so I can make her happy. Is that wrong? Maybe. Education is just as important as choosing a perfect prom dress, but I have wants and needs. Besides, we'll have great lives in Hollywood. Think about it –"

"Yes, I am thinking about it." Quinn cut her off. "I'm also thinking about the many people we'll be leaving behind as well. I'm already miles and miles away from Lima, Ohio already. Should I move any further? And I met friends here, who are all extremely incredible and nice. I don't want to sacrifice my Yale friends, too."

"Hey, I've met friends in Louisville, too, but I'm not worrying anything about –"

"That's because you never wanted to stay there. You've been babbling on and about how you keep on saying you want to be famous. That's a wonderful thing, Santana, but education and our friends are important as well. I promised people like Sam Evans and Tina Cohen-Chang I would visit them often, and that I would try to get in touch with everyone left behind with Brittany. I promised myself that I would get a 5.0 or something in Yale once I made it all the way down here. I don't like breaking promises."

Santana's only reaction was a shrug. She didn't have a label imprinted on her that read _Quinn Fabray's Brain_. She couldn't make any decisions for her; she herself is only a human being. She wasn't the control center in a mall or the Pentagon in the nation's capital or anything. However, she wanted Quinn to decide on something that'll work out for everyone.

"Hey, I convinced those ladies to send letters and stuff to you and Brittany for a reason. Not just for fame purposes like I did before, but you guys are my best friends. Like, I wouldn't want to be wandering the United States on tours all alone, sniffing up all the loneliness I already face here in Kentucky, alright? These damn bathrooms are disgusting. These damn beds are strangely uncomfortable. These damn study sessions on the weekends are stab-in-the-eye worthy, alright?"

"So you pulled us into this just for you, right?"

"You're not understanding, Quinn. This is not just for me. I want you and Brittany to come and do it with me. What's the harm in pitching in with someone who's been a friend to you since the first day of high school?"

This whole conversation kept on ringing _high school_ in Quinn's mind. William McKinley High School, to be precise. Brittany was there. New Directions were there. The Cheerios were there. Everyone she made friends with were there. She was too nervous to even think about leaving to another state once again. Did she really have to leave again? Did she _want_ to leave again?

"Quinn," Santana spoke a little less defensively, sitting up in her position on the couch. "All I'm saying is that you and Brittany are two, special and amazing people in this stinking world. You could be something greater than an upper middle-class citizen from Lima, Ohio. We all learned that we have something special in Glee club, right? Let's go and explore it. Yale will be here when we get back at any time."

"Okay…say if I did agree to go on this crazy, but mind-blowing trip around the world with you and Brittany." Quinn sat up from her seating position on the bed and leaned closer to the laptop in front of her. "How would we go to school? Celebrities don't just ditch school for the rest of their lives. Look at Justin."

Brittany, off topic and turning her head towards a teen magazine on the floor, sighed. "His whole life seems like school. He always gets bullied for some reason."

Santana scoffed. "Maybe because he's gay?"

"What if he isn't? He has a girlfriend after all."

The Latina shook her head and turned back to the other blonde on the screen. "Tutoring is available for teen celebrities, isn't it? I mean, we can't go back and forth from where we are to some concert and back. That's, like, seven trips a plane would have to take."

The skeptical blonde shook her head slightly. "Still not convinced, Santana."

"You don't believe me?" Santana reached down for her backpack, and took out a vanilla folder the manager gave to her. Inside was a contract dealing with a private tutor that Regina could possibly provide. "Look here."

Quinn and Brittany both squinted at the contract in Santana's hands. Neither blonde could clearly make out what the writing on the paper said. "It's a contract for private tutors. And they said if we ever make it back to our schools, then we could make up work with some of our free time."

"Are you sure they're qualified in doing that?"

"Yes, Fabray. I am. This is beneficial for our journey in the celebrity world, I'm telling you." _Geez, how much do I have to stress on her to motivate her_?

Santana looked back at the screen at Quinn, who hasn't made a decision on what she wanted to do. It was a hard decision, to be honest. Their lives would change completely. Not only their education, but their personal lives. Plus, privacy would be lost, and more people would know their names and where they were. One thing a girl wanted was privacy. However, Santana thought getting attention for once – excluding being a stereotypical, bitchy cheerleader at two schools – was a wonderful thing.

"Please, Quinn," Santana begged. She had propped herself onto the couch some more, her knees pressing down in the seat. "It'll be fun, trust me. Plus, you've had such a bogus life in high school already."

Quinn's eyebrow cocked. _Well, something about what Santana said was right_.

"Yeah, come on, Quinn." The blonde Cheerio was begging, too.

They both were Quinn's best friends. She couldn't pass up the opportunity. But something in her mind wasn't at ease just yet. She just had to know for sure if this was right.

"On one condition."

Santana's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Parental consent."

Bombshells dropped everywhere inside of Santana.

_Shit, not my mother…_


	5. Ch 4: The Confrontation

Chapter Four

_The Confrontation_

"Someone offered you, you say?" The Latina's mother had looked over the paperwork her daughter had sent home while the Louisville cheerleader dug into some _welcome home just because_ dinner that was served for her.

Every guideline, every sentence, and every word was stuck into her mind. Half of her brain wanted to shout, _this is all a scam_; and half of her brain wanted to calm down and say, _this would be perfect for Santana_.

So many emotions ran through her. Santana was growing up so fast. Had she blinked an eye and missed out on something. She was only nineteen and starting her freshman year of college.

But she felt like she did miss something.

One minute, her beloved daughter is off in Kentucky, using the scholarship her best friend and girlfriend got for her. The next, she comes back to Lima with a contract in her hands, agreeing to any terms and conditions of being a song artist with her two best friends. Teens her age rarely get this opportunity.

And Santana was one lucky puppy.

"Don't worry about a thing," the brunette sitting beside her assured. "They'll take care of school for all three of us, and we'll contact you, Brittany's parents, and Quinn's parents for any medication stuff – or at least, that's in the contract as well –"

"It's clearly stated in the file, Santana. I see that." Her mother replied with a couple of giggles, which faded away as she turned back to the contracts in her hands. "I just…well…"

"Something wrong, mama?"

The folder made a slight thwack sound on the table as her mother placed it down on the surface. The older woman's shoulders inched up a little as she eyed her only daughter. "It's all too much."

"I thought you wanted the best for me."

"I clearly do, Santana. I want everything for you – the house you've always dreamed of; a wonderful lover who will help take care of you; a sweet family who you'll spend time with and treat as kindly as you do with me; an on-task, money-making job so you'll be able to pay everything. But…well, shouldn't you be focused on the important things, and stick to fun for later?"

"This _is_ important. I was offered to work with a manager, her assistant, and two of my best friends in Hollywood, California."

Her mother held her hands up in front of her chest in defense. "I'm not saying that – well, I already did, didn't I?"

"Yes." The brunette teen rolled her eyes as she stuck some chicken fingers into her mouth. She loved her mother, sure; but when will the lectures stop?

"Santana." Her mother struggled to get the words out. "I have priorities set for you. I want you to be successful."

"How is being in the music industry not successful?"

"I don't know much as you or any manager or celebrity about what goes down in the music industry. I need to be certain what risks you'll be taking other than missing out on school and getting your needs taken care of."

"Okay."

"And not that many people make it that far in the business. You understand this, right?"

"Maybe they needed to work harder or something." The younger Latina gulped down the fruit punch in her glass.

"Santana, don't fool around with this. This is real."

"Who said I was fooling around?"

Her mother shot her an authoritarian facial expression, her eyebrow inched on her forehead. This wasn't anything compared to when Santana played with Barbie dolls when she was seven years old, and she could make up all the rules. Rules in life were as serious as getting run over by a city bus.

The fork made a clank sound against Santana's plate. Her hands were folded in front of her, and her eyes studied her mother's for a moment.

"Okay." It took an extra moment to get her thoughts together. "Mom, this will help me and my friends. Think about it. You said you wanted the best for me. Well, this is the best an average American girl – or boy – can get."

"Yes, and then it continues into something out of control or out of your comfort zone."

The only thing Santana could think of was the fight with Paris Hilton back in June. Damn woman and the paparazzi.

"No one's saying I'll end up as this out of control, _can't be tamed_ kind of person. And what could possibly be out of my comfort zone…besides changing in my trusty, two-bedroom apartment and someone watching from the other end?"

"That's what I mean. Your body will be exposed, Santana – eventually." Maribel's elbows kept her hands in midair and facing her daughter's healthy body. "And not to mention that, yes, there will be moments where you end up out of control. I don't tolerate that in anyone."

Santana's head cocked towards her left. "You know I'm giving you my word, right?" the shorter Latina asked.

"I'm just…a little uncomfortable, Santana. You know how hard it is to have and do certain things in this world, right?"

Her daughter shook her head slowly, still eyeing the older woman, disappointed. "You said you'd support me with any decision I made," the girl spoke. "Seems like a lot of irony here, right?"

"Santana –"

"No, it's alright." The brunette teen stood up from her seat, leaving her uneaten dinner on the table, and headed towards the archway of the dining room. "I have studying to do for when I go back to Louisville anyway."

Maribel hated disappointing her daughter. She wanted her to be happy; but Santana wants something that could lead her towards the right direction.

She had looked over an article that came from _ATP Magazine_ Santana had gotten in the mail a while back. It contained photos of Kim Kardashian with her line of pretty yet somewhat overly sexy attire, posing beside her younger brother, Rob. The article itself discussed a fight with Rob in the show _Keeping Up With the Kardashians_.

She couldn't help but imagine if that were Santana's life with her best friends. All the fighting, affairs, controversies, people coming to Maribel's home with questions on the latest bar fight.

A photo of an eleven-year-old Santana sat on the lamp stand nearest the archway. She was dressed up in a blue formal blouse with black leggings and white flats. That was the day she had gone to a family reunion.

That was the Santana Lopez she really missed. Young, innocent, small enough to fit through a tunnel in the playground area at the park.

People don't stay the same way, though. Life doesn't, either.

Maribel thought about how different it was in the nineties compared to what was going on now. She knew very well the nineties didn't have pornographic videos, slutty women, and cheating men. She wanted Santana to avoid all of that.

_Beep! Beep!_

The coffee heating up in the kitchen had been ready. What a stress reliever.

* * *

God, it's been a while since the Latina has been in her bedroom. It seemed messier than the last time she saw it.

Posters of Paula Abdul and some other famous artists hung on her wall carelessly, along with some photos of herself and her Cheerio girlfriend. Most of those pictures had Brittany in a white and yellow summer dress, leaning against an oak tree.

She had so many summer dresses hanging up in her closet. No one really taught her about the winter time and when it specifically snowed; so she would slip on some socks onto her arms instead of getting a long-sleeved shirt.

Santana thought she was adorable that way, though.

Speaking of Brittany, the brunette still was disappointed with herself about what happened the other day. That mental image of the creepy staring girl glued to her skull.

Santana didn't want to look at her or keep thinking about her. She had only one girl on her mind, and she wasn't some laser-eyed, alien-esque Goth girl. She was a blonde, beautiful dancer with golden hair flying past her shoulders like Rapunzel's. This was no fairy tale, but Brittany was the only one to give her a happily ever after.

Santana didn't believe in fairy tales anymore, but she did believe in hope.

Hope was out there, shaking her by the shoulders and telling her to take care of Brittany like she's the last thing on earth. Hope was slapping her in the face, furiously asking her why she didn't give her mother the benefit of the doubt about this deal. Hope was dragging her on her feet, persuading her that everything in her life will be just fine.

Santana had sat down at her desk, eyeing the photo of her, Brittany, and Quinn in front of the many girls on the Cheerios squad back in their junior year. That was such a long time ago. On rare occasions, they would act like bitches towards each other, but they were each other's best friend.

Well, at least they were for the time they had together.

Santana thought back to the offer the two women generously gave to her and the girls. How awesome of an opportunity came this often in life? If you were someone like Lady Gaga or Justin Timberlake, then it would probably be almost every day.

She always thought, can there be times when someone is right and wrong at the same time. Sure, her mother was very concerned about her daughter being put out there into a sea of strangers. But Santana's life was beginning. She'll be able to make it out there. She prayed on it. She one hundred percent knew that fact.

For some reason, her mind kept on trailing back from thinking about the job offer to her best friend slash girlfriend. She loved her so much. She loved the many miracles that were given to her. They were prizes, _succeeding in life_ prizes.

Santana wanted all of this. She wanted Brittany to be happy, she wanted to be happy spending the rest of her life with Brittany and Quinn, she wanted to be famous, she wanted to make something of herself –

God, there were so many _wants_.

But first, if she wanted Brittany to be happy, she had to tell her the truth before things in Louisville get even more crappy.

The Latina grabbed the black laptop that sat on her next adjacent to the lamp, entering the password and logging onto Skype for a quick chat with her Cheerio girlfriend. She didn't seem much tired at all, for she was dressing up her cat, Lord Tubbington, into some casual sweaters for another segment of _Fondue for Two_.

"Santana, hey. So, what did your mother say?"

Every nanosecond that passed, Santana begged herself not to let all of this out the wrong way.

"I can't really…well…"

"She said no, didn't she?"

"Well…not exactly."

"So that's a yes then?"

"Britt – no. She doesn't know her decision yet. We may know later on."

The blonde softly rubbing the cat's furry belly. "If I were your mother, I would've said yes under the condition that I'd get a phone call or email message every three hours."

The brunette scoffed. "Stop trying to be clingy like my mother. If she ever did say that I had to commit that type of order, then I would be stuck in some type of overprotective balloon for the rest of my life. Look at us, Britt. We're, like, nineteen. I thought adults don't hang onto their kids when –"

"Hey, I said if _I_ were your mother. Me."

The Latina couldn't fight off the bashful smirk. "Fine. Besides, you're the cutest thing life can bring, right?"

"Except for unicorns…and kittens."

Santana giggled, as the blonde did the same.

"Listen, Brittany, I need to tell you something."

The porcelain girl leaned back in her chair, and took a bite of what seemed to be a ham and cheese square. "Go ahead." Her words were muffled as she chomped down on the small sandwich.

_Sweet fucking baby Jesus._ Santana eyed the girl having her evening snack. She looked so innocent…and Santana felt so guilty. It had been a day or two – well, whichever; Santana's brain never took much memory when she was focused on something serious – since she spotted that other Goth-looking chick. Her conniving smirk was caught in her vision through her brain.

The brunette's eyes closed shut for a moment. _Crazy Goth chick, get the fuck out of my head for a minute! Please!_

"Santana."

Had she been silent for that long?

"Oh, sorry Britt. I was just thinking about something."

Brittany grew more concerned. "Did something happen, Santana. 'Cause I'm here for you. Did your grandmother die?"

"Abuela? No, she's…living large."

"I suspected that every time you mentioned your sexuality, your grandmother gets weaker and then dies. You know, like how the lady's gray hair grew black every time she sang a song and made Rapunzel's hair grow; but the other way around."

Santana's eyebrows furrowed.

"You know, from _Tangled_."

"Please tell me you didn't see that." The brunette replied, annoyed.

"My cousin was in the neighborhood, and she waited to see it since the trailer."

"Well, yeah, but did _you_ have to see it?"

"Santana, it was a sweet movie. It made me think of you a little."

"Fine. Which part?"

"The one where the girl and the guy were in the boat singing, and the old lady was looking for her _claimed to be_ daughter."

Santana smirked and scrunched up her nose. "And is the old lady supposed to be my abuela?"

Brittany smiled at her, showing off her soft cheeks and her small dimples. "It can be anyone you want it to be."

The Latina's brow inched up on her head at how intimate Brittany's voice had sounded at the moment. She cherished the beautiful laughter coming out of the Cheerio's mouth.

"Well, in that case, I guess that movie and my life can relate."

"So…you do regret not seeing it with me?" Her voice was so singsongy-like and innocent as a five-year-old's.

"Don't get any ideas. I still draw a line at any movie under Rated PG-13."

Brittany made a face at her girlfriend, concluding that Santana's thoughts on her last statement were truly wrong.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"You still watch _The Perfect Holiday_ around Christmas time. Of course, I don't believe you."

_Damn it, she got me._

Brittany giggled at Santana's response to continuity fail.

"So, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about again?"

Santana's smile dropped. She had forgotten that was the reason she called up Brittany on Skype. All of this glory and bittersweet moments would be gone in a matter of seconds if she told her now.

The Latina looked dead into the blonde's face. She grew curious as to what Santana was going to say.

"Brittany…"

The Cheerio's face started to look more concerned than curious now.

Santana moistened her lips and then bit down on them. Her fingers clawed up against her knees from under the desk. Her heart beat at an ultimate high through her black sweater. Her nerves on the insides of her arms, legs, and down her spine were getting the better of her.

"When my mother does agree to this, and we actually head out on this journey…" It was almost difficult to express this sentence to her. "I want you to be as happy, successful, and strong as you are now."

She couldn't bear to bring that girl up. She was too nervous to even discuss her, for her image kept popping up before she spoke to Brittany. Head Bitch in Charge Santana Lopez wasn't scared of anything with glowing, stalker kitten eyes or a seductive, hypnotizing force. However, it would be best for Brittany to not know rather than for her to be upset when she's around her.

And the Latina definitely wouldn't want to see a let-down, melancholy face as opposed to the bright, beaming one before her on the computer screen.

"I want the same for you, Santana. I want everything for you. That's something I'll never take back."

Santana hadn't been this relieved in her life. She would wrap her arm around Brittany's back and hold onto her soft, porcelain hands if she weren't talking to her via Skype right now.

"I love you so much."

Brittany perked up, her face blushing fifty shades of red. "I love you, too. Get some good night's rest."

"I promise."

She couldn't help but wave her perfectly-manicured hands back at the tall, blonde Cheerio before logging off Skype to get ready for bed. Her face burned for smiling at her for so long. Thank God for the tension fading away for Santana.

Her gleeful thoughts faded as well as she had turned on the radio and heard "The Scientist" playing on channel 103.6 FM.

_Nobody said it was easy._

_No one ever said it would be so hard…_

The song was right about something.

_God, what am I to do now?_


	6. Ch 5: Hand Holds and Facing Foes

Chapter Five

_Hand Holds and Facing Foes_

That same old annoying bell rung for the next period of class in McKinley High School.

Everyone darted out of their seats in their respective classrooms, and went to their next class, some moving faster than others.

A cheerful, tall Cheerio had headed on to her locker in favor of her textbooks and one her many possessions – a baby blue button with her face on it that read _Vote Brittany_ on the circumference.

Brittany was confident that she was going to win class president once again, especially when confronting ruthless Cheerios coach Sue Sylvester the other day. She hasn't graduated yet, and was pretty sure of herself that she was still going to be president still. Thanks to the rules of one lazy principal, there had to be another election this year.

This year was Brittany's year. It was her moment to come forth on the podium in McKinley's life-sized auditorium and make a stand for everyone walking around feeling useless and down for themselves.

She'll admit that last year, she only succeeded with a dinosaur-themed prom. That was before when she realized that life was a precious sort, and there was no need for it to be wasted. Everyone's life had a purpose, and she wanted to reach out to them and find out what it was.

"Britt-Britt!" A masculine, almost nerdy voice called to the blonde from behind.

Wheelchair-bound Artie Abrams had made a quick stop from his path towards the History classroom to speak with one of his former girlfriends. The quirky and silly Sam Evans leaned against the lockers, his muscular arms folded and his eyes shining down on Brittany's.

The handicapped male had his gloved hands folded on his lap. "So, you running for senior class president again?"

Brittany blushed at the attention she was getting from her fellow Glee club members. "Well, since you asked, yes. I mean, last year wasn't much of a good road that I've taken in the politics area. I could've done better."

"You still put on a kick-ass prom." Sam encouraged her with a light punch into her bare arm.

"I bow before your honest feedback, Sam Evans." Her statement made the blonde boy smirk. "But the school still needs a leader. I mean, we never took care of the situation of the students' health as opposed to the meals that are being served in the lunch room. Who knows? Insects and parasites may be lurking around in our schools."

Sam and Artie both shot bewildered looks at each other, and then at Brittany.

Brittany noticed that neither one of them had responded to her thoughts on what was going on. Instead of explaining it any further, she deadpanned both of the boys.

"You know what I mean. Anyways, I need my presidency back. I've come to realize that there are things about this school that haven't been resolved since I haven't done anything about it."

"You're just figuring this out now?"

Brittany's eyebrow cocked at the sound of another masculine voice that was neither Artie's nor Sam's. The moment she found out that she had competition, she knew this would be a tougher task than trying to read a calendar.

The Cheerio turned ninety degrees to her right, giving the death stare towards a senior male with a short-sleeved navy blue and white-striped sweater, a white bowtie with black polka dots, and an access amount of hair gel glued onto the top of his head.

"Brittany S. Pierce." He greeted, still staring at her, offering a hand shake in which Brittany rejected.

"Blaine Warbler." Her arms were still crossed in front of her chest. "I see your head is shinier than Sue Sylvester's semi-finals trophy from '08." With Blaine, as opposed to everyone else, there could be times when Brittany acted as a young Sue Sylvester.

However, Blaine could take anything she threw at him. Think of it as a young Will Schuester with black, gelled hair and the most thrown-together wardrobe.

"You can talk about my hair as you wish, Brittany," the young, dark-haired man replied, "but that won't change the fact that you'll win the election."

"What makes you think I won't win? I'm perfectly capable of anything. Dare try me."

"Yes, and one of your duties as president for last year was to go topless on Tuesdays. What makes you think that nudity is more important than a teenager's future?"

"For your information, that was a bonus. You know, we can still have a little fun, right?"

"A bonus to what? That whole speech about tornadoes especially made no sense. Then you promised robot teachers. How in the hell is that possible?"

"The human teachers would get more chances to stay at home and rest whenever they wanted to. They've been on their feet ever since they've gotten their jobs. How do you think they feel? Consider the feelings of not just the students, but the teachers as well, Blaine."

Blaine couldn't help but laugh at Brittany's response. "Brittany. I'm sorry to say, but you won't make it past me."

"Why do you say that? Will students be willing to listen to the drool-worthy plans of SpongeBow Shortpants?"

"They won't pay any attention to the ones of High School Drop-Out, either."

Out of nowhere, another Cheerio showed up with her books clutched to her chest. Two Cheerios stood behind her, acting as her bodyguards, and shot snarky looks at Blaine. One of them spotted Sam and Artie at the corner of her eye, and glared at them, signaling them to back away from their leader – or, at least the bitchy, petite blonde in charge.

"You again?" Brittany sighed. _When will Barack Obama come and get rid of _this_ problem?_

"You both are downers, you know that right?" Kitty asked both seniors before her. "Yes, this guy is as boring as a rock in the middle of the road –" Blaine frowned at this response. " – but you, Brittany, are as crazy as my Aunt Cindy when she attended her class of '78 reunion and got drunk on so many beer bottles."

The blonde boy leaned towards the taller Cheerio. "_Is she always like this?_" the synchronized swimmer whispered.

She gave Sam no response, but still stared down at the petite Cheerio. "Maybe so, Kitty," she began, "but you're as annoying as the Annoying Orange, who never seems to shut his mouth once in his life." She took a step forward towards her, still eyeing her. "Leave…now."

Disgusted, Kitty held a hand in front of Brittany's face. "Hey, I'm not trying to catch mono-stupido, okay?"

Brittany didn't respond this time. She looked down at her.

Waving off Brittany's scent, Kitty folded her arms once again and shot an evil smirk at the taller blonde. "Oh, and, I'll still be here for another two years. So…excuse me, but I think _you_ should leave. Or will you leave, _Miss I'm Stuck Here With a 0.0 GPA_ –"

"Hey, leave Brittany alone." Sam immediately spoke, frowning at the shorter Cheerio.

"Do you really think you have authority over me, Guppy Lips?" The blonde male shook his head at her comment, bringing one of his hands to his claimed-to-be-oversized lips. "I'm head bitch here in this God-forsaken school. You can put your foot down to anything I say, but I, of course, won't take it."

Kitty noticed that everyone was silent. Artie didn't want anything to do with Kitty or her Cheerio friends, and wheeled back just a tad. Blaine had noticed how awkward it had gotten and started looking the other way. Sam turned his head to Brittany, who seemed to look down on the inside.

The heartless Cheerio smoothed her uniform out and grabbed her ponytail that swung on the back of her head.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to class. You've officially bored me now."

Her hair swung in Brittany's face and slapped against her head as she headed the other direction to class. Both of her Cheerio friends followed close behind, eyeing the four as they walked.

Blaine checked his watch awkwardly and turned to Brittany, Sam, and Artie. "I should get going, too. See you at lunch, guys."

No one spoke as Blaine left. Brittany was now staring at the cold, hard floor. Her mind couldn't really take in what Kitty had just said to her. She hated getting served by the bitchiest girl in the school. Santana and Quinn were bitchy at one point, but they never treated her this badly.

Artie and Sam watched as the blonde was in a numb silence.

"Brittany…" Artie started to speak, but was a little worried about her state of silence at the moment. "Are you okay?"

_How can I when this bitch keeps coming to sass me?_

"Maybe."

That was the only response she gave to the boys before heading down the hallway slowly and into a Geometry classroom.

* * *

The wait to find out Santana's mother's decision was killing Quinn to the bone.

"She still hasn't said anything?" She had asked Santana through Skype.

"Nothing." Santana let out the frustration she had been holding in all day. "I don't see what's so difficult about deciding whether a girl should head to Hollywood and run the music world, or stay in Kentucky and be another one of those lowlanders with crushed dreams."

Quinn chuckled at Santana's ironically-hilarious frustration. "Not all people have crushed dreams when they're in Kentucky, Santana."

"Then how come this state isn't as known and powerful as California or New York or something like that? If this place were anything like Hollywood, I would be getting autographs and pictures from Jennifer Aniston by now."

"I'm telling you, we can't be fortunate of everything."

"Yeah, that's what you say, taking words out of our parents' mouths –"

"I'm not your mother, Santana."

"You are, eternally."

Neither girl could hold in their laughter at Santana's comment. Quinn almost choked on the cherry Crush she had taken from the mini fridge in her dorm.

"Fine, whatever." The blonde wiped her face with her napkin, checking everywhere else to see if some of the soda had splattered and made a mess. "But I'm telling the truth, Santana. Do you think you'll find a number of limos and hot spots in Lima?"

Santana shrugged willingly. "True."

"Quinn. Santana."

The two girls were almost startled when they heard Brittany's voice on the screen. Another window had pulled up, and a down Cheerio had come up on the screen, who was laying stomach down on her comforter.

"Brittany," Quinn spoke to the other blonde. "What's up with you?"

"Yeah, baby. You don't look so good." Santana grew concerned of Brittany's facial expression.

Brittany shook her head slightly and shrugged at both of them. "I'm just…tired."

Quinn tossed some popcorn in her mouth. "That doesn't seem like enough."

"I'm tired of Kitty. She and her friends had got to me today."

Santana's face scrunched up. "Who the hell is Kitty? Sounds like some bitch neighbor with a motorcycle, ten packs of cigarettes, and a house full of drugs and Siamese felines or something like that."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the Latina. "Santana."

"I'm just saying."

"Santana, as much as your awesome quips never get old," her blonde girlfriend replied, "I'm just not in the mood right now." Brittany clutched a soft, pink pillow to her chest and rested her chin on it.

Quinn and Santana seemed troubled as they watch the tall dancer stare into the computer screen sadly.

"Brittany, what did this Kitty girl do?"

"She keeps on making fun of me. Well, she started off with Blaine Warbler first and said something about him being boring and lifeless. Then she said something about me being crazy, a drop-out…" The tall blonde grew furious at her next few thoughts. "…having mono-stupido or whatever the fuck she said –"

"Mono-stupido?" the brunette asked.

"A disease that turns people stupid, I guess. Or she could've thought it was generic or something. I mean, I didn't have the smartest group of uncles, but –"

"Brittany, don't let her do that." Quinn was nearly yelling at her screen, unable to access what she heard in her brain. "She knows nothing of what you're capable of."

"I know, Quinn. It's just –"

Santana's eyebrows almost furrowed up again. Was Brittany really agreeing with what that bitch of a – well, whatever she was – said? What was going on?

"Well, before I encountered her, I thought a lot about my place in this school. I haven't done very well with my grades, and I only made one accomplishment as class president last year. I've been too much into my own headspace to realize that I haven't changed much. Maybe…maybe a part of her is right."

"No the hell she's not," Santana protested. "She called you _stupid_, Brittany. You're a smart girl –"

"Even if I haven't gotten a GPA last year?"

"Even if."

Quinn shook her head. "I won't take this shit."

The taller blonde turned towards the petite blonde on her laptop screen. "What do you mean, Quinn?"

"Brittany, you can be successful. I haven't told you this much being that I never understood you before, but Santana's right. You are smart. You learn quickly. You probably know more than this Kitty girl will ever know." She turned to Santana for a moment and then back at the tall Cheerio. "Looks like there's more to teach you."

"What does that mean?"

"I mean…" Quinn sighed and then shot the girls a smile. She was silent for a moment, but she was really sure of herself this time. "Let's do it."

"What, scissor-Skype?"

"Brittany!" Santana nearly yelled at her. The Cheerio bashfully hid her face behind the pink pillow, almost giggling at Santana's tomato-red face.

"After Santana had told us about this offer, I thought we shouldn't attempt it for a number of reasons," Quinn explained. "We're still young, we're yet to get jobs in the next…I don't know, four years –"

"Five, in my case." Brittany semi-lifted her hand willingly.

_I knew the girl was smart._ Santana thought as she eyed both blondes in her computer.

"In high school, we've been vulnerable to some extents, right? I, of course, had the Lucy Caboosey thing come back to me –"

"And the Tubbers joke, too." Santana added.

"Whatever." Quinn waved off Santana's quip. "Santana's had her ass kicked out of the closet. You, Brittany, have been called the S-word a few times in your life, right?" The taller blonde nodded. "The point is, we're better than anything anyone throws at us. Let's prove it to them."

Brittany suddenly perked up. "You…you mean we're actually doing this?"

Santana lifted a finger for a moment. "Wait, what about my mother?"

"We're going to prove it to her. We're going to do this, Santana. What's one thing that the Unholy Trinity can't do?"

Santana's eyebrow inched up on her head. "True."

Quinn smiled at Santana and Brittany, eyeing them with confident eyes. "Girls, I know we can do this. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right?"

"Like Sour Patches and light beer, right?" The taller blonde got so excited about the idea, unable to contain her jumpy motions on the bed.

Quinn sat there, taking in the awkward silence.

"Brittany, beer can kill you, actually."

The Cheerio stared at her in shock. "A&W Beer can kill me?" She gaped at the fact that she had some about a couple of days ago when studying at Sam's house. "You mean I –"

Santana giggled. "No, not that. A&W is _root_ beer, Brittany." Her sense of humor always got to her. _Well, that's Brittany after all._

Brittany settled down for a moment, her hand resting over her heart. "Thank God…" she relieved.

Quinn couldn't help but join in with the girls' laughter, which died back down as they confidently and determinedly searched for each other's eyes on their computer screens. They each were proud of how this was coming all together.

The petite blonde held her hand out, regardless that all three of them were separated into different cities. "We start together…"

"…and end together." Santana agreed, holding her hand out.

Brittany grinned from cheek to cheek.

"That's the way it should be."


End file.
